Page 45 of A Song for You

Now the sun is dipping from the sky, reminding me that our time is almost up. We walk hand in hand, enjoying a comfortable silence unlike any I’ve ever had with another person.

Cat breaks the silence. “We still have to figure out the food for the ball,” she reminds me.

I smile down at her. “I’ll take care of it.” Her shoulders droop a bit, and I wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “With you.” I kiss her temple. “I’ll take care of it with you. Promise.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I insist, trying like hell to focus on her and not our circumstance.

Looking up, she surveys me closely, like she’s memorizing my face, her lips turned to the side in thought.

“I don’t like peanut butter,” she says with a forceful nod.

I laugh. “What?”

“I think it’s the texture. Or the consistency. I don’t know, I’m not a fan,” she says with a smile.

I can’t explain why that was the perfect answer, or why I have a goofy grin on my face, but she makes the gloomy, sunless day vibrant.

“I’d have to agree with you, Kitten. Peanut butter does have a strange texture.”

Her eyes dance. “Thank you!”

We continue hand in hand, wearing matching smiles. “Favorite meal?” she asks.

“Cheeseburger and iced tea,” I reply easily.

She smirks. “Oh yeah, why?”

“Reminds me of a beautiful girl I shared a perfect lunch with.”

“So it was about the company, not the food?” she challenges.

“Probably both. Best lunch I ever had.”

We grin at one another stupidly.

“Favorite singer?” I ask.

She folds her lips, holding back a smile before she admits, “Definitely Mariah Carey.”

I raise both brows at that. “Really?”

She nods. “What about you?”

“I shared the best kiss of my life while listening to Coldplay, so I’d have to say Chris Martin will forever be a favorite now.”

Cat stops in her tracks, the abrupt halt yanking me back. “Really?” she asks softly, her eyes so warm and full of vulnerability.

I run my hands through her long locks, pressing closer until our bodies are flush. Spellbound by the way she’s looking at me, all I can do is stare back as I reply, “Really.” Then I press my lips to hers again, savoring her taste, memorizing her soft moans, the way she feels in my arms.

We kiss as if we have all the time in the world. As if there is no one in the city but us. No one exists outside this moment. If I could will this moment into forever, I would.

It’s the ultimate irony that the two of us would meet in the way we did, only to be kept apart because of the actions of our parents decades ago.

Cat loops her arms around my neck and hugs me close. “Thank you for today,” she whispers into my shoulder.

“A million todays would never be enough,” I concede. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”